Every Season Needs a Beginning

Published 3 months ago • 2 min read

Hey gang,

My daughter Elodie just turned nine, and right now the two of us are elbow-deep in a new LEGO build — not a set from a box, but a MOC (LEGO-speak for "my own creation"): a custom diorama we're putting together to show at an upcoming LEGO exhibition.

Here's something most people don't know about builds like this. We rarely start on a clean baseplate and go straight up. We build a hidden, stronger foundation first — a technique called MILS (Modular Integrated Landscaping System): you scatter 2x2 bricks across the baseplate in a set pattern, then cap them with a layer of plates. That plate layer becomes your new "ground," the surface where the real build begins.

And here's the part I love. The bricks down in that foundation are whatever we can dig up — mismatched colors, odd sizes, leftovers from a hundred old sets. Builders call it "filler brick." Underneath, it's a colorful disaster. Total chaos.

But every bit of the beauty — the careful color, the clean lines, the little glowing scenes — starts one brick higher above the MILS layer. And none of it would stand for a second without that mess holding it up.

That's about where I am right now. The beach is behind us, Elodie's got a new number on the cake, swim season is winding down — and my calendar is quietly filling back in with classes, rehearsals, and a fall that's coming fast.

For years I resisted this stretch. I'd wish for one more empty week, one more chance to "get caught up." Now I've started to love it, because I finally understand what it actually is.

It's the filler brick.

This week I've been finalizing courses my students will step into in a few weeks, filming tutorials for a winter drumset course, and sitting with a new composition that's barely starting to find its voice. None of it is finished. A lot of it is messy, whatever-I-can-find groundwork that no one will ever see.

Beginnings rarely get noticed. Nobody claps for the outline, the rough first draft, or the calendar you finally untangled. But that chaotic layer is exactly what everything beautiful ends up standing on.

So whatever you're starting right now, don't rush past the messy part. It isn't the boring part, or the throwaway part. It's the foundation — and the good stuff only rises because of it.

Keep creating,

Andy 🆎

P.S. — What are you laying the foundation for this fall? Hit reply and tell me what you're just beginning — I love hearing about the early, messy stuff.

Around Studio AB

🎉 Design Your Creative Life — my free workshop is this Friday, July 31. Last call to grab a seat: 90 minutes on building a creative practice that actually sticks. [Save your Spot]

🧱 Bliss Brick Studios — the diorama Ellie and I are building (glorious filler-brick foundation and all) is headed for an upcoming LEGO show. If you'd like to watch it come together, we post frequent updates over at Bliss Brick Studios on Instagram and YouTube. (No pressure — just a peek behind the surface.)

🥁 In the Studio — having a ton of fun working on a drumset cover of Dancing Through Life from Wicked.

Hey gang! I'm a percussionist and Associate Professor of Percussion at the University of Tennessee. Studio AB Dispatch goes out most Saturdays: what I'm making, what it's costing me, and what I'm learning about keeping a creative life running. Creative Pulse Labs is the community where that work goes deeper.